


And Still so Far to be Gone

by rattatatosk



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Cecil is an angry drunk, Dating, Fights, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Calls, Relationship Problems, minor spoilers for ep 54, scientists do not communicate directly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 20:34:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2322329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rattatatosk/pseuds/rattatatosk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Cecil is an angry drunk and Carlos admits to missing home more than he lets on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Still so Far to be Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [this headcanon](http://flameraven.tumblr.com/post/97667254940/theres-been-a-lot-of-discussion-about-how-carlos).
> 
>  
> 
> _cat's eyes along the road  
>  white lines to bring me home  
> time movin' by so slow  
> and still so far to be gone  
> and still so far to go_
> 
> _\--"Cat's Eyes" by Eleanor McEvoy_

Cecil hadn't meant to fall asleep. He really hadn't. Carlos was supposed to call him, after all, and he hated to miss those calls, even if more and more he was starting not to like what Carlos had to say during their conversations.

But then, he hadn't meant to get _quite_ this drunk, either. And yet somehow, one glass of wine had turned into three, and then he'd finished the bottle, and almost before he knew it he was halfway through a second one. That seemed to be happening a lot lately. He should probably think about drinking less, but thinking... thinking was painful. It was so much easier just to avoid thinking entirely. Which is where the wine came in.

In any case, he'd fallen asleep, which he realized only as the sound of Carlos' ringtone jerked him abruptly and reluctantly back into consciousness.

"'ullo?" he slurred.

"Cecil! I'm sorry, did I wake you up? I didn't realize it was so late-"

"No, I- uh. Uhm." He sluggishly fumbled for an explanation that sounded better than _I got drunk and passed out early._ "It was, ah, just kind of a long day," he mumbled.

"Oh! Um, okay. Did you, ah, you got my message?" Carlos asked.

The message. The voice mail, which had been at least partly responsible for Cecil's current state. "Yes," he said, more tersely than he'd intended. "I got it."

“Great! Look, there was something I forgot to tell you about before. So it turns out Alicia's dog is large enough for me to ride! It's making it much easier for me to move around and explore more of the desert, and I've been making some really fascinating discoveries lately. In fact, just this afternoon I found these really amazing fossils in the side of some of the rocks in this canyon--”

Cecil remembers sitting and listening to Carlos' excited babbling for hours in the past, but tonight, he just doesn't have the patience. “But you haven't found anything out about the Doors?” he grumbles, cutting Carlos off.

“I-- no,” Carlos says. “No, I- I didn't get time to look for them today. But-- but I'm sure, tomorrow-- maybe if I can ride out a little farther than I've traveled before, then--”

“Then _maybe_ you'll look,” Cecil mutters, sullenly. “Or _maybe_ you'll just get distracted by something else. _Again_.”

Carlos hesitates, before asking quietly, “Cecil? Are- are you okay?”

“No, I'm _not_ okay,” Cecil snarls. “You're not _here._ You're off having adventures and doing all this science with your new _friends_ , and I'm just here, alone, trying to put this town back together, and you don't even _care_ \--”

“That's—that's not true, Cecil, I swear. I do care. I love you, you know that! It- it's just taking longer than I thought it would, and I promise, Cecil, I _promise_ I'll be back soon-"

"You keep _saying_ that," Cecil snapped, "just like you keep _saying_ you'll look for the Doors, but you never do!"

"Cecil, that's not--"

"Do you even _want_ to come back to Night Vale?"

"Of _course_ I do, Cecil, I-"

"Because all you ever talk about is _Doug_ , and the _desert_ , and how _scientifical_ _ly interesting_ everything is, and it sounds like you aren't even _trying_ \--!"

"I _am_ trying!" Carlos finally shouted, cutting off Cecil's drunken accusations. The phone connection crackled with static, but Cecil could still hear Carlos' defeated sigh come through. "Cecil, I've been trying for _weeks_. Ever since I got stuck here. I--" he sighed again. Then, clearly and firmly, he said, "Cecil. Listen. There _are no Old Oak Doors_."

"W-what?" he sputtered, all his anger gone in an instant.

"I know I've been saying that I'll look for them later, but that's-- that's not really true. I _have_ been looking. I've looked every day. Doug and Alicia and the Masked Army have looked too. We've been all over this desert and back, and there's just--" his voice grew thicker, choked with tears. "There are no Doors," he said softly.

"No, but that's-- there _has_ to be one. There has to be _something_." There _had_ to be. He couldn't bear thinking about the alternative.

"There isn't. There's just sand, and rocks, and that one mountain with the lighthouse and the blinking light. I haven't found _anything_ else. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I just-- I didn't want to make you worry. And--" he sighed again. "And I didn't want to admit it to myself, either. I miss you. I miss you _so much_ , and when I think about being _stuck_ here, forever, and not ever seeing you again, I--" he broke off abruptly, and Cecil could hear him sniffling.

There was a long moment of quiet.

"...Carlos," Cecil said finally, hesitantly. "Carlos, I'm sorry. I shouldn't- I shouldn't have yelled at you. I-"

"No, Cecil, I-- You don't have to apologize," Carlos said, his voice still shaky. "I know you're frustrated, and you have a right to be. It's been, what, a couple months for you, right?"

"Yeah," Cecil said quietly. "Five months, just about."

"Right. And it's not-- it's not like things were exactly _easy_ , before that. What with new management and- and everything," he said, not even wanting to bring up the name _Strexcorp_ , not when it had caused them so much pain. "You have a right to be upset. It's okay. I understand, I really do. I just-- I just wanted to make things easier on you, if I could. By trying to make it seem like things weren't so bad here."

Cecil was quiet for a long moment, thinking. "...I appreciate the thought," he said at last. "Even if it sort of had the opposite effect."

"I know that, now. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"It's not okay. _None_ of this is okay. I shouldn't be here, in this stupid desert, I should be in Night Vale, at home-- _our_ home-- with you, and--" He groaned in frustration, and Cecil could practically see him pulling at his hair, the way he always did when a problem was particularly difficult.

"I miss you, Cecil." Carlos said at last. "I'll keep trying to find a way back. Even if there aren't any more Doors, there has to be another way. I'll keep looking. I'll find a way home to you somehow. I promise."

"I know you will." Cecil sighed. "I-I'll try to be patient until you do. Just be safe, okay?"

"I will. I love you."

"I love you too. Good night, Carlos."

"Good night, Cecil."

Carlos hung up, and Cecil set his phone down, staring at it for a long time. It hurt, the thought that Carlos might really be trapped in that other world, for much longer than either of them had expected. Maybe—maybe even forever. But-- it hurt a little less, knowing that Carlos _was_ trying. That he hadn't forgotten Cecil. That Carlos still thought of Night Vale as his home, and that he missed it, missed _Cecil_ , maybe as much as Cecil missed him.

Cecil looked over at the second bottle of wine, half-empty, and sighed. He picked it up, then slowly rose and left it in the fridge. All things considered, he thought he'd probably had enough for tonight.


End file.
